A Question of Taste
by the original killerpineapple
Summary: HP/SS/DM Harry, Draco and Severus try to get ready for a night out. Just silly fluff :


Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling.

A Question of Taste

"Potter, you're not wearing that."

Harry looks slightly taken aback, and glances down to his red and gold robes. "Why not?"

"Well, for one thing I will not suffer the indignity of turning up to this fund raiser with someone dressed in Gryffindor colours."

"Hey, I'm proud to be a Gryffindor!"

Severus sighs. Harry and Draco have had this conversation countless times, and he is in no mood to be drawn into the same argument again, especially when they're already running late.

"Well, do you think you could try being a little less proud? You know, humility's kind of...erm...cute."

"No it's not." Harry crosses his arms across his chest.

"Please can you just change?" Draco places his hands on Harry's waist, deciding it might be better to try gentle persuasion, rather than snide comments. "For me?"

"Fine." Harry starts back upstairs, his feet dragging slightly.

Draco sits on the settee, and Severus regards him over the top of his newspaper.

"Do you really have to do this?"

"Do what?" Draco examines his nails.

"You know what. Can't you just let him wear what he wants?"

Draco leans forwards and lowers his voice to a fierce whisper, glancing cautiously at the stairs. "No! He looks like a street urchin with a dressing up box!"

Severus tries and fails to hide his snort of laughter. "Harsh, Draco."

"But true, Severus."

They both turn as they hear Harry coming back downstairs. He stands sulkily, trying to hide his awkwardness at being looked up and down by Draco, awaiting his approval. He shrugs. "Better?"

"Hm." Draco frowns. "Maybe you shouldn't wear robes. Maybe something a bit more Muggle...?"

"Severus is wearing robes! I don't see you asking him to change!"

"Yes, dear, but Severus wears robes gracefully. You look, at best, dishevelled, and at worst, positively shabby."

"Draco." Severus warns.

Draco smiles his most charming smile. "Please, darling." He runs his hand through Harry's hair. "You're my gorgeous, sexy boyfriend and I just want to show you off. And those robes do not show you off."

Harry narrows his eyes, but without conviction. "Okay, as long as you stop trying to sort my hair out."

Draco blushes as he realises that his attempt at grooming was not effectively concealed as affection. Harry goes back upstairs. Severus pinches the bridge of his nose. He has been ready for hours already, waiting for Draco to stop preening and Harry to stop sloshing around in the bath. He does not have the patience to deal with this.

"Can I just ask, if Harry's your gorgeous, sexy boyfriend, what am I?"

"You're my old, grumpy boyfriend."

"I see."

Harry comes back downstairs.

"What the hell is that?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Do you really need to ask? You _do not_ wear jeans to a formal occasion, your tie and shirt clash deplorably and ...oh God, Severus, he's wearing flip flops."

Severus smirks behind his newspaper. "I am not getting involved."

"I don't see the problem. This is what Ron's wearing."

Draco's nostrils flare. "If you really think I'm going to be seen with someone who openly styles himself on _Weasley_-"

"I'll get changed." He goes back upstairs.

Draco rounds on Severus. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I'm enjoying thinking about what we could have been doing while you two have been bickering like old women."

Draco grins. Harry comes back downstairs.

"No, Harry."

"What's wrong with this? It's just a suit!"

Draco shakes his head wearily. "Harry, Harry, Harry. There is no such thing as 'just a suit'. You have to think about colour, pattern, cut, buttons, shoulders, lapels!"

"I can't believe no one knew you were gay." Severus mutters.

"Anyway, that suit is all wrong for you. For a start you should _never_ wear a suit where the pinstripe is a darker colour than the cloth. I don't even know where you got that. Certainly not from any of the stores _I _recommended. And you need a one with broader shoulders. It's all about masculinity right now, you want broad shoulders and a trim waist."

"I've got that grey one..." Harry replies, all the fight leaving him to be replaced by resignation and reluctant obedience.

"No, it's double breasted with peaked lapels and three buttons."

"So's yours."

"Exactly! We can't show up looking the same!"

"We'll hardly look the same. You're wearing pink!"

"I said no, dear. How about the black one? That does have peaked lapels, but it's different enough that it shouldn't matter. And that one's pinstriped with two buttons, too."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Just that it'll look good on you." Draco shifts uncomfortably and Harry eyes him suspiciously. "It's just...it'll make you look taller."

"Right, I've had enough of these height jokes!"

"It wasn't a joke! It was merely an observation."

"All right, Malfoy, you want an observation? You're sleeping in the spare room tonight."

"That's enough!" Severus is on his feet, tossing the newspaper onto the coffee table. "You, sit down."

Draco sits down, stunned into silence.

"You've criticised quite enough for one evening, so you can stay there and shut up and I will decide what Potter is to wear."

Harry makes a sound of indignation and Severus shushes him.

"And you, get upstairs and change into the black suit, a black tie and that pink shirt. Go!"

Harry starts back up the stairs.

"And for God's sake, comb your hair!"

Severus waits until he's sure Harry's out of earshot before turning back to Draco, his arms folded. Draco looks up at him, looking thoroughly ashamed of himself, and Severus finds it difficult to stay mad at him. "You had better be nice to him for the rest of the night. Okay?"

Draco nods. "Okay."

Harry bounds down the stairs, and Severus ushers them both to the fireplace. The last thing he sees before they disappear is their interlocked fingers. And Harry's hair. He sighs, pockets a comb and follows them, smiling despite himself.

Fin.


End file.
